


Of Desires

by theoxfordcommando



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Desire Demon - Freeform, M/M, pretty much just straight up angst, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9235475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoxfordcommando/pseuds/theoxfordcommando
Summary: Desire had never thought to bother Hawke before that night, having nothing of consequence to tempt him with.But now all of that has changed thanks to a certain lyrium-lined elf.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty mild NSFW, but still, heads up.
> 
> Special thanks to gothic-princess-witch for just being who she is and an endless source of encouragement and kindness.
> 
> One day I'll think of a better title for this fic, but it is not this day.

The first time it happened was two nights after he had left. Because if there was one thing Garrett Hawke had received in spades lately, it was rotten fucking luck. Two nights since he had had incredible, passionate sex with the elf he only now realized he had fallen madly in love with. Two nights since that selfsame elf had walked out his bedroom door without looking back. 

Garrett hadn’t been sleeping well since. 

That night had been no different. Hawke hadn’t left his room for anything non-essential in days, much to his sister Marian’s chagrin. She had tried every trick she knew to get her twin out of his own head, but nothing was working. He’d told her that morning that he needed the time to be heartbroken. It would pass, eventually, and he would recover, but first he needed to mourn the loss of what could have been. He would not give up on Fenris, even if he couldn’t love him in the way he’d hoped to. He would still stand with him, stand by him, ready to do whatever necessary to keep him safe and happy. 

But that night… It had been some time since a demon had visited Hawke in his dreams. It had happened more often in the years he was growing up in Lothering. Sloth, Envy, and Hunger hoping to prey on a poor farm boy while his guard was down.

But this was Malcolm Hawke’s child. A determined boy with an iron will that he kept clenched tight around his fears and insecurities, driven more by sheer willpower than any other natural force. And so, for the most part, the various inhabitants of the Fade took the hint and left the stubborn boy alone

. Occasionally in his teenage years, the demons would return, convinced that they could find his weaknesses in the midst of his turbulent hormones. Rage would arrive and attempt to rile him with their empty threats. Despair hung heavy on his dreaming consciousness for years, more persistent than any other. But as Garrett grew, so too did his power and his resolve, and the demons were left without avenues from which to strike at him. 

But Desire, Desire had never bothered him before. They had never seen the point. Desire had nothing to offer Garrett that would be unique from the offers of any other spirit. That is, not until a day nearly two years into the Hawkes’ stay in Kirkwall. The day he and his sister sprung the trap meant for an escaped slave, ransacked a magister’s mansion, accepted a certain renegade elf into their steadily growing family. Suddenly, Desire had a new toy, and they could not wait to see what it could do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Garrett blinked open his eyes, still heavy with a good night’s sleep. The covers appeared to have abandoned the bed at some point during the night and as Garrett sat up to fetch them, he caught sight of the figure by the fireplace. 

Fenris stood there, his leggings holding tight to his lithe form, Hawke’s silk tunic sliding off one shoulder, exposing the better part of his upper arm and the raised swirls of lyrium that glittered in the low firelight. His shock of white hair fell soft against the back of his neck, just long enough to brush his shoulder blades when he inclined his head. Feeling Hawke’s gaze, the elf turned from the fire to look on Hawke with a soft smile. 

“Good morning.” He said, and it was in a vulnerable way that Garrett had never really associated with him before. But he smiled back regardless, his mind fuzzy, his heart warm. 

“Is it morning already then?” There was no light yet breaking through the cracks in the curtains, the air of the room still dark and close, comforting rather than constricting. Fenris’ smile grew as he abandoned his fireside post and stalked towards Hawke, every movement confident and purposeful. 

“It is, in fact, barely dawn. But my sentiment holds.” Garrett held out a hand to his advancing lover, and Fenris took it in his own, interlacing their fingers as he came to a stop at the side of the bed. Then in one fluid movement he landed on the mattress, braced over the mage, and Hawke found that both his hands now had been pinned against the sheets on either side of his head. 

“You know,” Garret said, cheeky “this is shaping up to be a pretty good morning after all." 

"Told you.” Fenris responded, his smile wicked. 

That was all the warning Hawke got before Fenris’ mouth was on his, wet and warm. This Fenris was a far cry from the one Garrett had been with the one time before, but he had no time to ruminate on it as the elf broke the kiss, slowly, like he was reluctant to let go, tugging at Hawke’s bottom lip with his teeth. When Hawke looked up at him, his shirt had disappeared and he was practically glowing as he bore down against Garrett, hard and wanting. And Garrett was powerless to do anything but meet Fenris’ every demanding movement. 

Fenris grabbed Hawke’s hand then, placing it on his own chest, just beside his heart, and wherever Hawke’s hand met the lines of lyrium, they sparked, bright and electric, more mesmerizing than any magic Hawke could have crafted by his own hand alone. Fenris leaned forward again, trapping Hawke’s hand between their chests. Garrett suddenly became very aware that Fenris’ leggings had disappeared as well, although he couldn’t for the life of him recall when Fenris had taken them off. But Fenris’ breath was hot on his ear, one of his hands smoothing its way down along Hawke’s hipbone to rest just above where he really needed it, and suddenly those other little details didn't seem so important. 

“I want to fuck you.” Fenris murmured low into his ear. Garrett’s breath caught in his chest, causing him to let out the most embarrassing little whine the he would definitely be kicking himself for later. If he could even remember anything past the feel of Fenris moving against him, using his almost improbable strength to keep Garrett exactly where he wanted him. Finally Fenris did move to where Garrett wanted him, taking Hawke in hand and stroking slowly, almost aimlessly. 

“I’m going to fuck you. For so long that you forget all the world. All of it except for me, with you, around you, inside you.” Hawke didn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them on a rough exhale he was met with the desire blazing bright behind the elf’s eyes. 

Only…Hawke was almost certain that Fenris’ eyes had never been that green. His own eyes narrowed.

“I love you.” The Fenris that was not Fenris said. He said it with such conviction that Hawke wanted nothing more than to believe him. To lie back and revel in this fantasy. But he knew that wasn’t how this worked. Summoning all his strength, he threw the creature that was not Fenris from his bed, and it landed on two feet, back against the fireplace. 

“Get out." 

"Why, Hawke, don’t you want me anymore?” The demon was still wearing his former lover’s face, but it’s illusion had been shattered and it no longer sounded quite right, the sickly sweet sound of Desire beginning to blend with the familiar sound of Fenris’ low voice. 

Looking at the demon, expression steeled and unforgiving, he realized with a surge of guilt that it didn’t even look like Fenris, not really. The tattoos curved in the wrong direction in places, his ears were a good half inch shorter than they should have been. And he was embarrassingly well-endowed, which had Hawke fighting down a blush, ashamed at himself for what the Fade had conjured for him. 

Hawke had memorized every inch of the real Fenris that one night they’d had together. He had memorized every line, every dip and curve, like a part of him had known that it might be his only chance to do so. This imperfect copy stood as a mockery to what he had once been allowed. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Hawke knew better than to engage a demon, particularly in its own domain, but he was angry, heartbroken. 

“I thought perhaps you would be willing to let yourself ignore it. But it appears you are just as stubborn as they’ve always said you were.” The Desire demon had returned to their own form, and was picking imagined dirt out from under a long, sharp nail. 

“Good. Now go." 

The demon gave an overly dramatic sigh before finally relenting. "Very well, you belligerent little mage. I only wanted to give you a good time. Let you have what you truly want. I can still hear it, you know, your desires. I know what you-" 

"Go." 

That one word was spoken with a finality that brokered no argument, and with that the demon vanished.

Hawke woke then, ripping his consciousness from the Fade. Opening his eyes, he immediately jumped out of bed, barely making it to the chamber pot against the far wall before emptying the meager contents of his stomach. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and rested his head against the solid wood of his nightstand, the sweat cooling on his skin as he closed his eyes tight and began to berate himself. 

He had been weak. He had betrayed his closest friend’s trust. It couldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t allow it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought this was neat, come stalk me on tumblr at the same user ID. Drabbles to be found in tagged/no-rules-just-write. Send me prompts or headcanons, I love them.


End file.
